


The Getaway

by TrueMyth



Category: Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Outdoor Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 06:11:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4614222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueMyth/pseuds/TrueMyth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Veronica tracks Logan down to a seaside cliff in Mexico.</p><p>Future fic written at the end of season one that holds up surprisingly well.  Who'd'a thunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Getaway

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the loveathons’s Outdoors smut challenge (on LiveJournal). Beta’d by the beauteous mutionousmuse.

The slanting rays of the afternoon sun had warmed his woolen blanket and an indefinably ripe smell was beginning to rise into the air around him. This would be the last time he bought camping supplies off the side of the road. At least the plaid material was sufficient to mellow the rise and fall of the dusty earth and sun bleached grass. Logan Echolls was drifting quite happily off to sleep.

The lullaby of the wind in the branches above him and the faint pounding of the surf on the cliff wall far below was broken suddenly by the crunching clip of briskly approaching footsteps. Logan knew that efficient march of short strides as well as the beat of his own heart, and so he did not open his eyes until the sound stopped at a point just below his small blanket empire.

“How’d ya find me?”

“Wow. All we’ve been through and you still doubt my Nancy Drew skills?”

Her voice was bright as the sunlight currently creating a halo of gold around her head. He couldn’t make out her expression against the back light so he stopped trying and threw an arm across his face.

“You followed me all the way to Mexico? I said I’d be back in time,” he grumbled, and tried to will her away. He heard her shifting her weight and imagined she was now resting both hands on the delicate curves of her hips. He swore he could smell a change in the air, like the vague metallic scent that heralded a thunder storm. He measured the length of her indrawn breath and he knew he was in for a long tongue lashing. The bad kind.

“Logan, you know how important tomorrow is! Everything this summer has been leading up to it. And I find you sleeping the day away on some cliff? You promised everyone you’d be there. It’s all been planned around you.” She took another long breath, warming up to her rant. “And then you disappear! You don’t say how long you’ll be gone. You don’t call. You don’t write. You didn’t even tell me you weren’t taking your cell!”

She was pacing by now, back and forth along the bottom of his blanket. He let his head loll to one side and he watched her through narrowed lids, beneath his arm. She was still silhouetted against the cloudless sky, a tiny tornado of flowing activity, graceful even in her agitation. It was such a cliché but god was Veronica Mars beautiful when she was angry. He forced his lips not to twitch, as he answered her.

“I knew it was the first thing you’d try and trace.”

She whirled to face him, and he knew he’d made a mistake when she met his eyes. She wasn’t supposed to think he was so alert.

Sure enough, she fell to her knees beside him and leaned in close. She was moving in for the kill, and playing dead was no longer an option. It was best to get it over with and throw himself to the lioness. He sat up, moving defiantly into her striking range, but unsettling her too, as he pushed into her personal space and sighed into her ear.

“I just wanted to have some time to myself. My car is all packed. I was saying a last goodbye.”

He swept his hand in a careless arc across the panorama before them. He kept his gaze locked on Veronica’s face as she followed his gesture and truly took in where they found themselves. He had bet she hadn’t taking her eyes from his trail since the moment she’d found his car, and he was collecting on that bet now as he watched her baby-blues open wide, then wider still. He knew what she was seeing; he had memorized the vista on countless visits.

Before them stretched a world entirely of blue. The sky, so vast around them, seemed all possible shades of that heavenly color, from deep cerulean at its zenith to a fine powder blue at the horizon where it kissed the edge of the Pacific Ocean. The water reflected all of the colors of the sky, and brought new significance to each. It introduced greens and grays and silvers as the wind danced along the surface. They were high up on their cliff, but only one hundred feet away from its edge and the sound of the surf as it struck the craggy rocks below was like a constant breath or heart beat — a living thing.

“It’s beautiful.” Veronica breathed the insufficient word and shook her head.

Logan watched the sunlight catch the golden down on her cheek, liming her skin with a glittering sheen and he agreed, “Yes, it is.”

Veronica turned immediately at the sound of his voice, in time to watch his gaze as it slid down the pale column of her throat. She swallowed. His eyes swept up again and paused for a moment on her lips before they met hers. He smiled. The smile broadened as she exhaled a puff of sweet air and began to pull back.

“No, Logan, I know that look-.”

That was far as she got before he silenced her with one soft brush of his lips. She exhaled again and this time he was able to taste her breath.

“You’ve been eating those raspberry candies again,” he whispered against her mouth and grinned. He feathered kisses across her sticky lips as he quietly laughed at her sweet tooth.

A frustrated growl rumbled in Veronica’s throat and she grabbed at the back of his neck forced him to deepen the kiss. He returned the kiss full-heartedly, but his chest still vibrated with laughter and she pulled back to glare at him.

“Fuck you, Logan.”

“Oo, lucky me,” he crowed, unrepentant.

She shoved him then, and he fell back with a final giggle onto his itchy blanket. He didn’t have to wait long before his view of summer sky was replaced by Veronica’s exasperated face.

“This isn’t going to work,” she insisted as she straddled his torso and began to pull off her light jacket. When he only held his eyes wide and guileless and was not at all distracted by the straining cotton of her tee-shirt, she could only emit a huff of irritation as she tossed the green jacket onto a corner and frowned at him.

“You’re not going to distract me with sex,” she declared as she placed a hand on either side of his head and glowered down at him. He tried to be serious as he nodded gravely up at her, but he felt the side of his mouth twitch and knew it was a hopeless cause.

She sighed.

“Logan -.”

She broke-off and looked away. Her upper face was hidden by the fall of her hair, but he watched as she worried her bottom lip between sharp white teeth. Whatever she was about to say seemed to be troubling her a great deal and he felt his smile begin to fade as she took a deep breath and met his eyes again.

“Trina is going to need you there-.”

He couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Oh God, the things we do for family, right?” She sat back and he continued to chuckle into the endless blue above him. When she remained only a silent weight on his middle, he peered into her oddly pensive face.

“What are you worried about, Veronica, m’dear? If you’ve been tracing my cell phone, then you are no doubt aware, that ‘ _friends are the family you choose_.’” The faint twitch on one side of her pink mouth was the only signal he needed, and he quickly rolled them over, pinning her to the ground and the woolen blanket, but holding the majority of his weight with his legs and one arm. Her twitch had blossomed into a full smile by the time they stopped rolling and he grinned down at her and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.

“I really was coming back to Neptune.” She nodded in acceptance and he continued, “I know exactly how long it takes from here. This is my secret getaway, after all.”

“Secret, hum?” Veronica whispered and he felt her hands sliding up the length of his back. He closed his eyes and let his head drop forward when her fingers brushed at the base of his neck. She nuzzled his temple and he realized he was in a rather convenient position to give her neck a bit of attention.

Soon Veronica was gasping above his head and arching against the rough blanket. She didn’t seem to mind its rasp against the delicate skin of her back or the fact that her shirt and bra had very likely landed somewhere near the base of a distant tree. Logan attended to each muted gasp and allowed her body to tell him where he needed to be. He concentrated on keeping his pressure light, his kisses soft, but it soon became clear that was not what she wanted. Veronica clutched at the fabric of his over-shirt and clawed through his hair. She pressed her breasts into his hands and mouth with a frantic twist of her spine and squeezed one of his thighs tightly between her own. God, he had missed her. Logan was lifting his head to tell her so, when she managed to form a complete sentence of her own.

“You are wearing too many fucking clothes.”

With the strength of a near fanatic, she pushed against him and tumbled them around again, so that the world was a momentary blur of blues and reds and luminescent white. When the kaleidoscope had settled, he was treated to the vision of Veronica, naked from the waist up, unabashed against the bluest of summer skies, which somehow managed not to compare to the electric circles of heaven looking down at him from her passion flushed face. 

“How long?” she demanded as she unbuttoned one of his cuffs, then the other, and pulled him into a half sitting position as she pushed his over shirt off his shoulders.

He blinked.

She tossed the shirt, unseeing, over her shoulder.

“How long does it take to get to Neptune? How long do we have?” Her syllables tumbled over each other as if time had become too precious for each to merit a moment of their own.

“We have hours,” he breathed in satisfaction.

She plunged her hands under his tee-shirt. This time she allowed herself a pause as her finger brushed the hard curves of his abdominals, and he bit the inner flesh of his lower lip to keep from smirking before his face was enveloped in the thin cotton of his tee-shirt and his bare back landed with a thud on his fucking uncomfortable blanket. His shirt stayed where it was, pinning his arms to the sides of his head and he quivered with laughter for the third time this afternoon as he felt Veronica’s hands molding and caressing their way up the planes of his chest. Then her fingers brushed against the flat disks of his nipples and it wasn’t so funny any more. When he realized Veronica was rubbing herself against the vibrating column of his body, his laughter lodged in his throat and he ripped the tee-shirt off his head.

Veronica smiled knowingly at him, an azure-eyed cat drunk on cream, as she held his gaze and lowered herself along the length of him, controlling the arch of her body so that their warm skin came together one slow centimeter at a time. When the hard points of her nipples finally touched his flesh they both hissed involuntarily. Their actions lost definition again, as his hands mapped out her back, her breasts, and she plundered his mouth with hers. Her fair hair fell like a curtain of golden light around them and he thought he might know what it felt like to live inside a sunbeam.

Then the sunbeam dissolved, was whisked away over one alabaster shoulder as she smirked down at him. It was the special smirk he had taught her, and it meant delicious things. He shifted his legs a bit wider and waited.

Veronica didn’t disappoint. So slowly, she worked her way down his chest with lips and tongue. Like a trail of corn silk, her hair followed after as a momentary chill balm to the heat of her mouth. Every inch of him was loved and laved before it became the next, and her fingers, three shades lighter than his own flesh, joined the downward slide, floating like butterflies over his skin. Logan watched her until she reached his navel, then he let his head fall back. He stared up into blue infinity.

She was so accomplished, so stealthy that his pants might as well have dissolved off his legs. Or perhaps she was just an excellent magician, skilled in the art of misdirection. Because she had his attention right where she wanted it. His entire being was focused on her slightest movement, action, suction. The blue expanse above him began to glow indigo at the edges and he moaned her name sans consonants.

And she stopped.

And stood up.

And he was about to do some serious thinking of naughty ways to torture her, as soon as the blood returned to his brain, when he heard the rasp of a zipper going down.

He looked up.

Veronica stood at the edge of the blanket, her petite figure towering over him from this perspective. She began to shake her hips slightly. He followed them with a similar movement of his head. It was a little bit like snake charming. He was entranced, could almost hear the haunting music of the pipes. He realized she was moving to the rhythm of the ocean swells below. Each beat exposed a bit more skin, as she revolved slowly in place, seeming almost as spellbound as he.

The sky was darkening as the sun sank lower in the sky, and the deeper blues provided contrast to her pearlescent skin, the way fine jewelry is displayed on dark velvet. With a final twist and shake, the denim cleared the curve of her hips and fell to her feet.

One step, up and out.

Two.

And she stood over him.

A graceful fold of her small legs and she straddled him again, high on his chest.

Veronica leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

“I like your secret getaway,” she confided to Logan’s cheek. She gifted him with a tender look. And then her eyes flashed sapphire and the sly smirk returned. Before she took hold of the game completely, once again, Logan cupped her neck and pulled her down for a passion drinking kiss. He swallowed her lust and she his, and there always seemed to be more to feed on. Veronica ended the exchange with a small nip at Logan’s lower lip. He gasped a laugh of pure joy.

She moved back down his body and positioned herself carefully. Again the ocean set their tempo, became the rhythm for the rush of their blood. Logan fisted his hands in the coarse fabric of his horse blanket, as Veronica slowly rocked her way toward paradise. Soon she began to make the softest mewling noises as her hands moved over her skin. Logan closed his eyes and thought of England, anything to prolong the moment. But still, all he could see was his Veronica, heaven-eyed on a field of endless blue, and he felt a tear slide from his right eye when she finally called out his name and he could join her, entwining her name with his and sending them into the sky like single prayer.

It was a really fucking good thing that they had hours. Because Logan thought it might take him that long to move his pinky.

Toe.

But, of course, Veronica had other plans. She pulled herself off him and gathered up their clothing as he groggily sat up and looked around. As he pulled back on the jeans Veronica handed to him, he realized that he would probably have rug burn on his ass from his ghetto blanket. As he watched Veronica pull her hair back into a high ponytail, he found he didn’t have it in him to complain, so he wadded up the stupid thing and tucked it under his arm.

“Come on, V. They won’t hold the wedding up for us just because we are on the playbill.” He threw his other arm around her shoulders and they began to walk down the hill, through the oak grove, toward the cars, as she laughed.

“I’m still amazed that Trina is getting married for third time. And to Dick fucking Casablancas!” She threw her head back against his shoulder and he knew she was watching him from the corner of her eye.

“Well, Veronica, not all of humanity believes that marriage is the greatest evil of our age.”

“Yeah,” Veronica agreed as she watched him toss his blanket into his indigo Viper. “But I kind of think _this_ marriage might be.”

Logan chuckled and leaned against his car. He watched as she rocked back and forth on her heels. She was uncomfortable about something.

“Whip it out, Mars.”

“I thought I just did.” She glanced back up the path with a chuckle, but grew silent when it set in that he was not going let her joke past this.

Logan saw the moment she decided to let it all come out in the straightening of her spine and the squaring of her stance.

“I didn’t hunt you down to make sure you came back for Trina’s wedding.” She held his gaze firmly as if to judge the effect of her statement.

Logan nodded.

“I had something to tell you. That I found out. After you left.”

When she trailed off into an agitated silence, Logan considered making a show of a pointed check of his watch. Instead, he pushed off from the sports car and moved to stand directly in front of her. She still met his gaze with timid eyes. She didn’t evade him any more, thank god. But something obviously had her spooked. So he did the only thing he could think of.

He kissed her with the tender gentleness of a man who had been in love with her for years. And then he waited until she was ready to speak.

“I’m pregnant.”

She looked almost as surprised at her outburst as he felt.

After the words had sunk in, Logan let out a tremendous cry and picked her up of the ground, spinning her in a spiral around the clearing as he continued to holler. A sudden thought had him placing her back on her feet and smoothing down her clothing. He was about to adjust her hair, when a mirthful noise bubbled up from Veronica’s throat and she sidestepped him.

“I’m pregnant, Logan, not made of glass.” She grinned. “I’m pregnant. With our baby. And you’re happy.”

“Of course I’m happy.” Logan spoke without thinking as he stared in amazement Veronica’s abdomen. His forehead furrowed. “Does this mean…? Are you finally going to marry me?”

Veronica’s face fell and Logan couldn’t stand it. He rushed to her side and made sure she was looking at him.

“Veronica, I want to be with you. I want to raise this child, and I want us all to be happy. That’s it. If that means I’ll never become Mr. Mars –” she made a choking sound at his long running joke “- well, so be it. I’m so happy, Veronica.” When her face broke into a grin again, he gave a slightly moderated whoop and wrapped her up in his arms.

As the hug relaxed into one of peaceful contentment, a new idea crept into Logan’s mind.

“You know, V?”

She looked up at him.

“This is an excellent reason to celebrate.”

At her confused look, Logan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and nodded his head back up the hill.

“Logan, the wed-.”

She never finished the word.

Logan grabbed her by one hand and his blanket by the other, and pulled the pair back up the hill.

“Who needs weddings, Veronica? I’ve got a crappy, ass-scratching blanket. I’ve got a baby on the way.” He paused at the top of the hill, under an ancient oak and pulled her close. Resting his forehead against hers, he looked into the blue, blue eyes that had become his haven in the outside world. With her by his side, it was as if he carried a piece of his ‘getaway’ around with him. And so he smiled into those eyes and whispered his soft words across the bridge of her nose. “And, Miss Veronica Mars, I’ve got you.”

And, together, they turned and stepped out from the shade of the trees, and into a world of blue.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The idea of Logan taking the Mars last name should they marry is totally not mine. I first read it in [a fiction](http://vmfanficutopia.livejournal.com/3807.html) by sadiekate, and I’ve run into it in other places. Isn’t it a delicious idea? But not mine. So CWCiD and all that.


End file.
